


You Are Not A Bad Person

by chemically_imbalanced_romance



Series: Roommates AU [6]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (from an unsympathetic oc), (not violent or physical), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Minor panic attacks, Past Abuse, Self-Harm, fighting between the sides (resolved), past lashing out, self destructive behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29781756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemically_imbalanced_romance/pseuds/chemically_imbalanced_romance
Summary: [WARNING: this au follows the sides as abuse survivors, please be careful)After Virgil's first major fight with Patton and Roman since he moved in, he wonders if he's any better than his ex and if he deserves to be with them. He considers going back.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Series: Roommates AU [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898446
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	You Are Not A Bad Person

**Author's Note:**

> For context, this takes place before Virgil and Roman get together romantically, but while they’re getting closer. Also before Logan comes out as nonbinary, so he still uses he/him.

Virgil had been locked up in his room for days. 

His roommates argued over what to do. Logan insisted he just needed some space to decompress and think the situation over, but Roman and Patton couldn’t stop worrying. 

“What if he hurts himself?” Patton asked. 

“What if he thinks we hate him?” Roman asked. 

“He’s going to come out when he’s ready.” Logan sighed and took their dirty plates away to the sink. “There’s nothing we can do right now. We can’t talk to him if he won’t even open the door.” 

Patton pulled his coffee mug closer and worried his lip between his teeth. “I guess so,” he mumbled. 

In his room, Virgil stared at the pile of letters Patton had hid from him for three months. They were all opened, but not by Virgil. Virgil hadn’t touched them since he dumped them on his desk a few days ago. 

_ How did he find me?  _

He drew in a shaky breath and grabbed the first envelope. 

_ My dear Virgil,  _

_ I’m at a loss for words. What could I have done that was so bad for you to leave, without even telling me? Didn’t I at least deserve that?  _

Guilt churned in Virgil’s stomach. He  _ had _ to leave without telling him, his ex wouldn’t let him go otherwise. Right? He wouldn’t have let Virgil go. 

_ My home— our home, will always be here, waiting for you. You can always come home. I won’t be mad. I promise.  _

_ I won’t lie, I’m very sad. It’s been hard to go on. The house is quiet without you. And the fact that you’d leave it for where you are now? I can’t even pretend to understand.  _

_ If this is what you really want, then you should do it.  _

_ But don’t I at least deserve a goodbye?  _

It was signed with his name. 

Virgil had already read this one, several months back when it first came in. It didn’t have the same impact it did before, not with everyone else’s words swimming in his head, proving his ex wrong. It still hurt. 

He picked up another letter. 

_ My dear Virgil,  _

_ Do I not deserve a response?  _

_ I hate to make you uncomfortable. It’s why I don’t show up at your door, like I could, and demand your attention.  _

_ I’m always thinking about you. Are you thinking about me? Do you want to come home?  _

_ You can come home.  _

Another. 

_ My dear Virgil,  _

_ Something is telling me you aren’t getting these letters. Even if I wasn’t granted a response, I’d at least see a reaction.  _

Virgil’s stomach dropped. A reaction? 

_ Are your roommates protecting you? Isn’t that a little unfair, a little rude? To meddle with our relationship? We can solve this on our own.  _

_ Don’t you want to come home?  _

He flipped the envelope over. There was no stamp, only a return address. These were hand-delivered. Virgil might have thrown up. 

He thought back to his life before. The one thing that always got him was how dreadfully  _ boring _ it was, the same thing over and over again, no end, never leaving. He had his plants and his sketchbook and his cooking, but that was all. 

But is  _ boring _ really the biggest complaint he has? 

A lot of people go through worse. Roman— Roman went through worse. Roman had a reason to leave. Virgil was starting to think he didn’t. 

Another letter. 

_ My dear Virgil,  _

_ I just wanted to remind you that I still love you. I won’t be angry if you decide to come home. I just want to take you back and lie you down in bed, wrap myself around you like I used to. If you come home, we can lay in bed and watch T.V. all day. We’ll order in. I’ll buy you a whole garden, if you want it.  _

_ I’m willing to change.  _

_ Don’t you want to come home?  _

Virgil hated how it affected him. He fought back a smile, pressing the letter to his forehead and simultaneously trying to remember and forget. 

There weren’t many days like his ex described. They were rare, in fact. Did that just make them more special? Not many days where they cuddled under the blankets, the heater going as the snow fell outside. Not many days where Virgil didn’t have to cook, where they ordered from his favourite restaurant and ate in bed. Not many days his ex wrapped his arms around Virgil’s middle and pulled him close and murmured that he loved him. 

With Roman, that could be any day. Multiple times a week, sometimes. Did that make it less special? 

He didn’t want to leave Roman. But did he  _ deserve _ Roman? 

_ E.,  _

_ Do you really want me back?  _

His hands trembled as he wrote. Once he started, he found he had a lot to say. Some of it felt demanding, but if he was going to go back, there had to be  _ some _ change, or he’d lose his mind. He didn’t ask for much. Barely anything, in fact. Some more days to eat in here, some days outside there. His own bank account. Maybe a day where he could borrow the car. 

It could be better, right? No more than he deserved, but better. 

He wondered if being with E. for so long, only really interacting with him, is what rubbed off on Virgil, or if he was like this from the start. Did it come from his parents? Did it come from him? Was it just him? 

Virgil hid the letter and came out of his room. 

“Virgil?” Roman jumped to his feet, but stayed at the kitchen table. His eyes were wide with worry. “Virgil, are you okay?” 

“I’m okay,” he promised softly. “Where are the others?” 

“Logan’s with Remus and Janus. Patton’s dropping off some orders.” He hesitated, drumming his fingers over the table. “Do you…?” He opened his arms. 

Virgil pursed his lips. He wanted desperately to fall into his boyfriend’s arms, but his stomach churned with guilt. He crossed the room to nuzzle into him, trying to ignore how bad he felt by rationalizing he would be gone soon. 

Something crinkled. He froze. Roman’s arms were around his waist, squeezing against the letter tucked in his waistband around his back. He waited. 

“We need to talk about what happened,” Roman said, and Virgil slowly relaxed. 

He pulled away. “Okay.” 

Roman cupped Virgil’s face. “We’ll wait until Patton gets back, okay?” 

Virgil nodded. 

Roman and Virgil sat in the living room together, watching movies while they waited for Patton. Roman sat on the couch with Virgil at his feet, working in his sketchbook. Roman eventually leaned forward to rub Virgil’s back. Virgil pressed his forehead to his knees, eyes fluttering shut. 

When Patton got home, his eyes widened. “Verge, hey!” He set his keys on the table and inched into the living room. “Are you feeling okay?” 

Virgil hesitated, and shrugged. “We need to talk, right?” 

Patton settled in the armchair nearby. “I think it would help.” 

They all hesitated, then Patton said, “I’ll start. I’m… I’m really sorry I hid the letters. I was really scared.” 

Virgil frowned. “Why?” 

“Well…” He avoided his eyes. “I didn’t want to upset you.”

Virgil’s chest squeezed. “Right. I- I’m sorry about that.” 

“And I didn’t want you to be, I don’t know… tempted?” Patton forced a smile and wiped his eyes. “But you’re stronger than that, I know.” 

Virgil frowned. His brain faltered a little, and he opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words. 

They must have mistaken his struggling for silence, because Roman said, “We understand why that happened,” he squeezed Virgil’s shoulders, “but we need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“It won’t,” Virgil promised instantly. “It won’t, I promise.” 

Patton and Roman looked at each other nervously. 

“That’s good, kiddo, but how do we know?”

“Trust me.” Virgil blinked back tears, his voice thick. “It won’t. I won’t let it.” 

“That’s not really how it works, stormcloud. You didn’t  _ choose _ to lash out, so you can’t really choose not to. It happened because of something else.” 

Virgil stood on shaky legs. “Please trust me. I… I’m working on it. I’m working on something.” 

Patton and Roman stood as well. “Can we help?” Patton asked. “You don’t have to do this alone, Verge. It’s why we’re here.” 

Virgil shook his head. “No, I don’t need help. I— I need a walk. I’m sorry, I need… I just need some space.” 

“Okay,” Roman said softly. “Thanks for talking to us.” 

Virgil quickly kissed Roman’s cheek, then grabbed his coat and hurried out the door. 

Part of him was terrified of walking alone— What if E. came by and snatched him without warning? All his stuff was at home and his friends would never know what happened to him. 

But it was good to get some space to breathe. He walked to the post office and slipped his letter in the box, then took the long way home. 

A few days later, he got a response. 

He made a habit to check the mail himself, three times a day. Everyone assumed he had a bit of trust issues now, which wasn’t entirely wrong. 

_ My dear Virgil,  _

_ It took you a while to get back to me.  _

Virgil frowned, shifting uncomfortably. 

_ I was afraid you’d given up on me. Of course you’re still allowed back home. When can I pick you up?  _

Virgil breathed shakily. 

They wrote back and forth over the next two weeks, negotiating pick up, travel, times— Virgil didn’t realize he was stalling. He kept wondering if it would be better to tell his friends or keep it to himself. He didn’t want to worry them. He didn’t want them to feel guilty, and obligated to stop him. He just wanted to quietly go and not bother them anymore. Not infect them anymore. 

That is what he wanted, right? 

One day, he came out to get the mail and frowned. The box was empty. At this point, he’d been getting a letter from E. every day. They weren’t exactly slowing down with their communication— they’d just agreed Virgil would meet him in a few days. E. was excited. 

A door creaked open. “Virgil?” 

Janus leaned in the doorway of his and Remus’ apartment, a letter between two fingers. “We need to talk.” 

Virgil paled. He felt like he was going to pass out. 

“Come on. Remus is at work, let’s talk.” 

Virgil hesitated, then reluctantly followed him into the apartment. Janus shut the door and handed Virgil the letter. 

_ My dearest Virgil,  _

_ I’m so excited to see you again. I promise, you’ll be happy. I’ve already made some changes to the house that I think you’ll really like. And we can keep talking about the car thing, too, if you really must.  _

Virgil smiled a little. 

He gasped as Janus snatched the letter back. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He hissed. 

Virgil shrunk in on himself. “I… I have to go back, you don’t understand.” 

“What, because you blew up, once? Because someone invaded your privacy? Something you  _ just _ got back after three years of nothing?” Janus crossed his arms over his chest. “You  _ have _ to go back? Have to?” 

He scrubbed at his eyes, collapsing into the desk chair.  _ “Yes.  _ I— I fucked up. I’m just going to keep hurting them—” 

“People hurt each other,” Janus snapped. “That’s what they do. You didn’t do it on purpose, did you?” 

“I didn’t even realize what I was doing,” Virgil whispered. “I just… got mad. And I couldn’t stop yelling, and…” Tears dripped down his face. “I couldn’t control it. I can’t— I can’t be like that, I can’t put them through that again.” 

Janus crouched down and forced Virgil to meet his eyes.  _ “You are not a bad person,”  _ he stressed. “You just got out, what, a year ago? Less? It’s not like you’ve got a weekly therapy appointment. You’re figuring this out on your own, it’s going to be hard.” 

“Stop making excuses for me,” Virgil begged. “I can’t explode on people like that!” 

“You can’t make a  _ habit _ of exploding on people.” Janus sighed, elbows on his knees. “You made a mistake. Nobody wants to banish you for it. Sometimes people hurt each other. Fuck, Roman and Remus hurt each other twice a week—  _ that’s _ a toxic relationship. But they’re  _ working _ on it. That’s all you have to do. This?” He held up the crumpled letter, and spat,  _ “This _ will not help anything.” 

“I deserve—” 

“Nobody deserves that.” Janus narrowed his eyes. “Nobody.” 

Virgil buried his face in his hands as he shook with sobs. Janus stood and rested a hand on his shoulder. He stayed silent while Virgil cried it out, eventually finding Janus’ hand and gripping onto it for stability. 

“What do I do?” 

“First things first, you need to tell your roommates about this.” 

“What?” Virgil’s head snapped up. “No! I—” 

“You’re clearly in a destructive head space, and I can’t stop you from self-sabotaging yourself every time.” Janus raised an eyebrow. “This was almost bad. They need to know.” 

Virgil sniffled. “I don’t— I can’t.” 

“I’ll go with you. Alright? You need to tell them, and I’ll help you.” He held out his other hand. When Virgil took it, Janus helped him up. “Come on. Let’s go tell them.” 

Virgil wanted to throw up. He wet his lips, and nodded. “Okay. Okay. I can do it.” 

He followed Janus out. 

**Author's Note:**

> hey if you want to help me afford the jams or like bills maybe, commission me! i have a commissions post pinned to all of my blogs (this one would be abused-sides.tumblr.com) or you can buy me a $3 kofi and i'll write you a triple drabble.


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